World of Warcraft: The Shattering: Prelude to Cataclysm Page 0,113

to give. “Maybe,” he said after a moment. He took a pull on his pipe and let the smoke trickle out of his large, hooked nose. “Maybe.”

“Within a few days.”

Gazlowe coughed, smoke coming from his mouth in short billows. “What?”

The Grimtotem pulled out a second pouch, not as large as the first, but still quite respectable. “My … boss understands that one needs to pay extra for rush jobs.”

The goblin whistled softly. “Your boss is smart,” he said. He eyed the list again and sighed. “It’s going to be tough, but—yeah. Yeah, I can get all this for you.” He hesitated. The Grimtotem sat patiently. A private war was clearly going on inside the goblin’s head.

With a sigh that was low and pained, Gazlowe pulled out a fistful of coins from the second pouch, then shoved the rest back at the tauren. The Grimtotem looked up at him, confused. A goblin, not taking money freely offered?

“Listen,” Gazlowe said. “Don’t spread this around, but … I, uh … support what you are trying to do.”

The tauren blinked. “I … am glad.”

Gazlowe nodded, then rose. “I’ll have them for you in four days. No sooner.”

“That is acceptable.” The tauren rose, too, and turned to leave.

“Hey, Grandpa?”

The Grimtotem turned.

“Tell Baine I always liked his dad.”

Stormsong Grimtotem smiled softly. “I will.”

The army was on the move.

Although Baine was secure in his decision to not seek revenge against Garrosh Hellscream, he was not about to ask that rash orc for aid. That meant that he was on his own. Fortunately, the story of Magatha’s treachery was beginning to spread. Camp Mojache had not fallen to the Grimtotem yet, but everyone there was desperately fighting. They could spare no reinforcements. But Freewind Post had managed to rebuff an assault and stayed loyal to the Bloodhoof line. Everyone there who could fight had volunteered the first night that Baine had asked for sanctuary. He had two dozen healthy, fit warriors, and others who were desperately in need of training but whose enthusiasm and passion could not be denied. Cairne had been well loved and his son respected and honored. There was no question that any tauren who was not a Grimtotem—or living in fear of them—would rally to Baine’s side.

He wore Fearbreaker proudly, although he did not explain who had given it to him. He had no wish to jeopardize Anduin in any way. The weapon had not seen the light of day for decades, perhaps centuries. It would not be noted as a distinctively dwarven weapon although it was small. Nearly every weapon was small to a tauren. When asked, he merely replied, “This was given to me by a friend, as a gesture of faith in me and my cause.” That explanation seemed enough to satisfy most.

They were marching up the Gold Road toward Camp Taurajo. Word had come from Sun Rock Retreat. They had repulsed an attack and were sending troops to meet him there. Baine marched openly, sending a strong message to any Grimtotem spies that might be observing that he and his supporters were not afraid. Indeed, their numbers swelled as they left the stagnant marshes of Dustwallow behind and entered the dry lands of the Barrens.

More than tauren had come to join their cause. There were several trolls among the ranks, a few orcs, and even one or two Forsaken or sin’dorei. The Forsaken who had come had expressed owing a debt to the tauren who were, after all, the ones who had pushed to allow them into the Horde at all. Most of the rest were mercenaries; however, thanks to Jaina, who had given him a considerable amount in untraceable gold, he was able to hire them. Their skills would, Baine was certain, prove vital.

The shape of a kodo appeared on the road, a small dot, and as it drew closer, Baine recognized its passenger as Stormsong. He drew his large mount alongside Baine, who went on hoof.

“Good news?” asked Baine.

“As good as possible,” Stormsong said. “Gazlowe agreed to provide all we need in four days. And he did not even accept the full amount. He said to tell you he always admired Cairne and supported our cause.”

“Really?” Baine glanced up at him, surprised. “A true declaration of loyalty from a goblin. I am pleased.”

Hamuul had been talking with his fellow druids. Now he stepped forward. “As you predicted, they know we are coming. We have spies who inform us that Thunder Bluff is preparing for a siege. The good